


Ghosts of Christmas Past

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:52:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An obbo brings back memories</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts of Christmas Past

Surprising to both, acknowledged by neither, the partnership was working. Cowley raised a glass to his two agents and silently congratulated himself as he watched his newest team jostle each other through his office door. Bodie, ever the gentleman, at least in his own mind, relented and waved Doyle through. His attempt at decorum broke as he ruffled his partner’s unkempt hair. The office door closed on a muffled _‘geroff, berk!_ ’ Cowley allowed himself a small smile. “Chalk and Cheese,” he murmured in amusement. But it had worked. Barely a year into their partnership, the two disparate men had each found something they had needed in their counterpart. 

Bodie was a military man and Cowley had more in common with him. He understood Bodie and his motivations. He had seen that the ex-mercenary needed something, or someone, to balance him. Something to soften the hard edges he displayed to the world, something to breach the high walls that protected a surprising vulnerability. Someone to teach him that compassion wasn’t necessarily a handicap.

Then there was the other half of the Bisto Kids. Intense, scruffy, mercurial Ray Doyle was an enigma. He had the compassion that Bodie eschewed, but it was paired with an uncompromising sense of right and wrong, of black and white, of justice for all. The actions taken to satisfy that fierce sense of justice didn’t always mix well with his innate compassion. Doyle wore guilt like a second skin. That’s where Bodie came in. He knew just how to handle Doyle’s moods, knew what to say and when not to say it. 

Cowley, a good judge of men, had thought they’d ‘complete’ each other, and they had. They’d become his best team. In a weak moment, sharing a wee dram with his assistant, he had told that to Betty. She’d laughed and accused him of “match-making”.  
Surprised by the sentimental direction of his thoughts, he checked his watch and decided to call it a night. Maybe it was the scotch, or the season, but he decided that if his two agents wrapped up the latest IRA business successfully, he’d give them both leave for the Christmas holiday. He grinned, _‘That should set their wary minds on edge....’_

#

Bodie watched with fond amusement as his partner walked around the toy department yet again. Harrods had set up a display depicting Christmas in the fifties and Ray was enthralled with the toys of his childhood. He seemed especially enamoured of a small red car. He had an almost wistful look on his face, but his eyes were a bit sad. _’There’s a story there’,_ Bodie told himself, _’and he’s going to tell it to me over a pint tonight’_. 

This was their first Christmas as partners. Cowley had them running down tips from their grasses, trying to get a step ahead of the IRA and their penchant for holiday bombs. So far, the pair of them had come up empty. The latest tip had sent them to Harrods, working undercover. But Bodie wasn’t going to come up empty on his own little mystery. He was going to pry the reason for his normally _all-business_ partner’s nostalgic behaviour. He stifled a smirk as he watched Ray gently run his hand over the bonnet of the bright red metal car sitting under the garishly decorated tree. 

He and Ray hadn’t discussed plans for the holiday. They’d most likely be working. And if, by some miracle Cowley did give them a bit of time off, Bodie figured that his latest bird, Lily, would offer to cook for him and he’d spend some time curled up with her in front of her fireplace. He didn’t know what Ray had on; Ray had been very close mouthed about his plans. In fact, this display at Harrods was the first real interest Ray had shown in the holiday season at all.

“Doyle!” Ray cringed at the sound of Charleson’s voice. “A lorry just pulled in with the afternoon delivery. They’ll need some help unloading. See to it, man.”

“Yes, sir.” Doyle gave Bodie a helpless shrug and headed to the store’s loading docks.

“And you, William, aren’t you supposed to be in Men’s Grooming today?”

“Yes, Mr. Charleson. On my way.” Bodie smoothed out his posh suit, not his usual style, but it would do. He silently pictured giving the store manager the two fingered salute. The lads in CI5 thought Cowley a bastard to work for. He was nothing next to this man.

Bodie spent the afternoon helping little old blue-hairs buy cologne for their equally old spouses and assisting well dressed gentlemen in picking out gifts for their _friends_. “Poofters,” Bodie smirked knowingly. His day occasionally brightened when a posh bird would ask his advice on some do-dah or scent. Happy to oblige, and displaying his finest smile, he could have gathered enough phone numbers to see him through the New Year. He didn’t think Ray would appreciate that. Ray? He’d meant Lily, of course. And what was that all about anyway...

A deep voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Excuse me. I work with a gent who is constantly getting up people’s noses... do you have something to help with his removal?”

Bodie looked up to find Charlie holding a nose-hair clipper. A snort escaped along with a quiet “Pillock.”

“Come this way, sir. We should have something that will work.” Bodie pulled his CI5 co-worker to a counter away from the other shoppers. His smile faded.

Charlie, still holding the nose clippers, said, “Lewis and McCabe uncovered some intel. The IRA is planning an attack here, at Harrods, but the details aren’t clear.”

Bodie nodded, digesting the news without a change of expression.

“It will be sooner, rather than later,” Charlie finished.

Bodie smiled at him and bagged the groomer as Charlie handed him payment, both men keeping up the pretence of their covers. His eyes glittered mischievously as he handed Charlie the parcel. Quietly he whispered, “Would like to see you explain _that_ on your expenses, mate!” Out loud he told Charlie, “Happy Christmas, sir. Enjoy your purchase.”

“Oh, I’ll put it to good use, no worry there,” Charlie returned the teasing look.

#

Finding himself alone in the warehouse, Ray climbed into the open back of the lorry and started to check out the boxes stacked inside. Most were the size and shape he was used to seeing, holding clothing, or shoes or house wares. Further back in the truck he saw some smaller boxes that looked like they had been opened and re-sealed. Kneeling next to the odd pile, he carefully unfastened one and peered inside. He whistled when he saw the C4. He quickly opened a second box and found detonators. Grabbing the boxes he moved quickly to the door of the lorry and checked the warehouse. Finding that he was still alone, he hid the boxes in his locker. He took his R/T from the pocket of the jacket hanging there. 

“4.5 to Alpha. Found the goods, but not the owners.” He keyed the R/T again and told Bodie “Jackpot!” He then shoved the R/T back into the jacket’s pocket. He hoped backup would get here before the missing explosives were discovered. 

“Doyle!” Denny, the shift foreman, walked towards him. “What are you doin’ here?”  
Ray closed and secured the door to his locker. He hoped Denny hadn’t noticed how he had flinched in surprise at the sound of his voice. 

“Charleson sent me back. He said there was a delivery to unload.”

“Never mind that. I need you to take the boxes on that cart up to the fourth floor. Find Reynolds and help him set up the display in Toys.”

Ray grabbed the cart and pushed it into the lift. He made his way past the toy display, sparing a quick glance at the red car under the tree. 

“Ah, Doyle,” Reynolds greeted him. “There should be a train set in those boxes. Set it up around the tree there.” 

As he took the train engine out of the first box, he felt himself being watched. Looking up, he was met by wide green eyes in a face flushed with excitement.

“Like trains, do you?” 

The boy nodded and Doyle caught his breath, seeing himself at the age of seven. The hair, the eyes, even the posture took him back twenty-five years and he was feeling again all the simple wonder and innocent excitement that he’d lost all those years ago.

The boy was asking him something; he pulled his attention back to the present.

“You want to help?” he gestured at the train.

A hesitant smile and a shy nod were the only response.

“Well, c’mon then. I’ll unpack and you can set the cars on the track, yeah?”

They worked silently but companionably until the train was all in place. They stood together, matching grins lighting both their faces.

“That’s all right, then,” Ray ruffled the boy’s hair like Bodie always did his. Instinct made him turn sharply. Three men were moving quickly out of the lift towards him.

“You best go find your mum, now. She’s probably worried about where you’ve been.” He watched the men get closer. “Go on now.” He pushed the boy gently away from him.

“But...” the boy looked hurt and confused.

“Go on, now. I’ve got work to do.” He waved him away and moved toward the men approaching, to keep them from the child.

“Doyle.” The men surrounded him. “You’re wanted down stairs.” 

Denny put an arm around his shoulders, like he was greeting a friend, but Ray felt the barrel of a gun pressed into his side. A quick look over his shoulder showed him the boy moving quickly away; the lad’s face showing confusion and concern. He closed his eyes in thanks that the boy hadn’t been caught up in this. 

He turned to Denny. “Oi! What’s this all about, mate?”

“You can drop the act, _mate_. We’re on to you. Only things we need to figure out are who you’re workin’ for and what we’re going to do with you.”

They entered the lift.

“Don’t know what you think...” A fist to the stomach stopped Doyle’s words.

“Save it. We found the explosives and detonators in your locker. Did you think we wouldn’t notice they were missing?”

They rode the lift down to the warehouse in silence. Ray was pushed into the back of the now nearly empty lorry and tied onto a chair that had been placed behind a large cardboard box.

#

Bodie had heard Ray’s message and had been looking for his partner since. He was coming out of the lift on the fourth floor when a boy ran into him. 

“Whoa! What’s the hurry, young man?” Bodie noticed the fear on the boy’s face.

“I’ve lost me mum.”

“Ok. How about I help you find her, then? What’s your name son?”

“Billy.”

“Good name, that.” Bodie smiled, trying to look reassuring. “Where did you last see your mum?”

“Over by the toys, by the big tree.”

“Let’s go then.”

The boy hesitated when Bodie started walking toward the toy department.

“Billy, come along! Don’t you want to find her?”  
The boy looked even more frightened.

“What’s wrong, son?”

“I was helping put up the train. That man, Ray his shirt said, let me set it up. Then some men came and took Ray away.”

Bodie tensed. “Took him?”

“I... I think one of them had a gun... Ray sent me away, but I didn’t want to leave the train, so I hid behind some of the boxes, and I saw... I think I saw a gun.”

“Did you see where they took Ray?”

“They took him into the lift.”

His R/T went off, distracting him. 

“3.7”

Cowley’s voice, clipped and angry, came through the speaker. “The call just came in, a warning of an explosion within the hour. 

“They’ve got Ray.”

“Back up should be there in five minutes. We’ve started evacuation. Find Doyle, he knows where the explosives were.”

“That may be easier done than said, sir. I have a witness that saw Doyle taken at gunpoint.”

“Find him, 3.7”

“Sir.”

Bodie looked down to find Billy staring up at him in awe. “You’re like James Bond!”

Bodie laughed, “Not quite.” He herded the boy back to the lift. “We have to get you out of here and I need to find Ray.”

#

“So who are you workin’ for? Cops? MI5? Interpol?” Each question that went unanswered was punctuated with a fist. 

“Stubborn git, isn’t he?” Denny looked to his companion.

“Yeah. Might loosen his tongue a bit when he learns what we have in store for him.”

His head roughly pulled back by his hair, Ray looked up into menacing eyes. 

“Last chance, pretty boy. Who’re you workin’ for?”

A tense silence was followed by a sharp blow to the side of Ray’s head. He lost consciousness.

When he woke he found himself lying on the floor in the back of a van. He had been gagged, his hands tied behind him and his legs were chained to a hook secured in the side wall of the van. He could hear what sounded like traffic moving past him; the van must be parked out on the street. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could begin to make out his surroundings. He was surrounded by boxes; boxes he realized were the same size and shape as the ones he’d found holding the C4. Adrenaline heightened his senses and he could now see wires running around the inside of the cargo compartment that was his current home. A bomb. He was trapped _inside_ a bomb. The whole van was wired to blow. He struggled against the bonds holding him in place. He twisted and stretched muscles and tendons trying to get his hands in position to reach into his back pocket for the small knife he carried there. All he managed was wrenched shoulders and bloody wrists. It was useless; he wasn’t going to be able to free himself. He’d have to hope that Cowley had acted on his earlier information and that somebody had noticed he was missing.

#

Leaving the boy with the police who were evacuating the store, Bodie made his way to the warehouse. He couldn’t think of anywhere else to search for his absent partner. The area was eerily silent. He didn’t see anyone moving about. A lorry stood empty by the loading dock. Bodie climbed up into the back. He drew his gun as he searched the cargo area. A broken chair and strands of rope told him he was too late.

“Damn you, Ray!” Bodie kicked at the broken bits of the chair. “Just like you to go haring off on your own... How am I supposed to watch your back if you don’t wait for me!”  
His R/T buzzed.

“3.7”

“Get yourself out to the Brompton Road entrance. There are a couple suspicious vehicles parked along the road,” Cowley commanded.

“On my way.”

With a last look around to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, Bodie left the warehouse.

#

A search of the three suspect vehicles resulted in nothing. Cowley was convinced it had been a ruse, designed to give the villains a chance to plant the real bomb. There was only ten minutes left before the bomb was supposed to go off. The store and the road had been cleared. He saw Bodie kneeling in front of a small curly-haired boy. He seemed to be offering the child comfort. The smile the lad was gifted as Bodie stood and ruffled the untidy hair was one that not many were privileged to receive. Doyle would know it well, though. He watched as Bodie then began to pace impatiently on the street; his worry over his partner plain for everyone to see. He was about to send Bodie back into the store with the bomb squad when Murphy’s voice sounded over the R/T.

“6.2 to Alpha.”

“Go ahead 6.2”, he felt Bodie slide up next to him.

“There’s a delivery van parked on Hans Road. It’s rocking, sir.”

“Rocking?” Cowley asked as Bodie smirked.

“Er, yes sir, rocking.”

“Well check it out, man! Are you waiting for an invitation?”

“No, sir.”

“Bodie, go around the corner and assist 6.2.” He nodded approval when he saw that Bodie had already gone.

They approached the van with caution. Bodie noted that it was indeed rocking. He smiled at Murphy.

“Could be embarrassing, this.”

“Yeah, but for who?” Murphy sniggered.

Bodie walked up to the van and looked in the driver’s window. There was no one there and a metal partition kept him from seeing into the cargo compartment. 

“Hallo in the van. You need to come out, slowly. Now.”

The pace of the rocking increased. They heard a banging from inside, like someone pounding on the vehicle. 

“Where’s the bomb squad. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Murph.” Bodie ran his hands along the seam of the closed rear doors.

“Oi, in the van. Can you hear me?”

The pounding increased and he could hear a muffled yell. His skin went cold. It was Ray. He was sure of it.

“I’m going to try to open the doors, Murph. I think Doyle is in there.”

“Bomb squad should be here in a minute, Bodie. It’d be safer to wait.”

Bodie checked his watch. Five minutes to go. “Ray may not have the time.”

Bodie pulled his lock picks out of his suit pocket and went to work on the van’s lock. He had it open in seconds. He pulled the door back slowly and his fear was confirmed. The van was wired to explode and Ray was bound inside. Bodie levered himself gently into the van and crossed to where Ray lay. He removed the gag and untied Ray’s hands. 

“What took you so long!” Ray demanded, voice hoarse. 

“Good to see you too.” Bodie ruffled his hair. “Another fine mess you’ve got yourself into, Batman.”

Ray moved to sit up, the chains securing his legs jangled against the van’s floor. “What’s the time?”

“Got a date, have you?” Bodie checked his watch. He didn’t answer Ray. They had about three minutes left. He heard the bomb squad arrive. 

“Get out of here, Bodie. I’m not goin’ anywhere”, he lifted the chains around his legs, “and there’s no sense in both of us gettin’ killed.”

Bodie ignored him. He called out “I need some wire cutters. Sooner would be better than later!”

A member of the bomb squad, clad in protective equipment, climbed into the van with the cutters.

“Go on then,” he said to Bodie. “I’ve got him.”

Bodie didn’t move. Ray glared at him. “Bo-day!”

“Not leavin’ without you, Ray.”

The sound of the metals links of the chain being broken spurred them all into action. Ray tried to stand and jump from the van but his legs, after being tied up, wouldn’t support him. 

“One minute!” Murphy’s voice warned them.

Bodie pushed Ray out of the van and Murphy grabbed him. Bodie was next out, followed by the officer from the bomb squad. 

“Down!” the man yelled. Bodie dropped on top of Ray and was covered himself by the bomb squad man. The van exploded, spraying them with glass and metal and enveloping them in smoke. 

Murphy, who had taken shelter behind a car, moved to where they lay in a heap.

“You alright?”

They untangled themselves, coughing and brushing themselves free of debris. “We’re ok.” Bodie turned to the bomb squad officer. “Thanks, mate.”

“You took quite the risk there, laddie,” Bodie smiled at the man’s accent. “You should have stood clear and left it to me. I get paid to take risks like that.”

Bodie helped Ray to his feet. “This is my partner. _I_ get paid to keep him safe.”

#

The op had ended as well as could be expected. There had been only a few injuries. Ray had identified the men who had held him captive, and after a brief gun fight in the store’s warehouse, Charlie and his crew had hauled them off to HQ. Ray was unusually quiet. He had been taken, and believed he’d failed his end of the op. There should be anger and shouting and guilt and self-castigation. Bodie set a pint in front of his silent partner and sat down next to him. They had commandeered a table in a quiet corner of the pub.

“So, Raymond. It’s confession time.”

Ray looked up at him, confusion and irritation clear on his bruised face. “What are you on about?’

“The red car, the one under the tree in Harrods, what was the fascination? You couldn’t keep your eyes off it.”

Bodie watched the walls come down as Ray’s face paled. Bodie waited, patient, and finally was rewarded.

Ray took a deep pull on his pint and looked down at the table.

“When I was seven... it was Christmas time. Me Dad had lost his job and we didn’t have much money. Mum was working at the laundrette to try to keep food on the table. It made Dad angry that she was workin’ and he wasn’t. He spent a lot of time drinking. There was always a lot of yelling. But I was seven, and didn’t understand. It was Christmas and I saw that red car in the store window and I wanted it. Talked about it all the time. Kept tellin’ both of them how Father Christmas was going to bring me that car.” 

He took another drink. Bodie saw his hands were shaking. He squeezed Ray’s knee under the table in silent support. Ray gave him a sad smile.

“I think the car became my answer to everything that was wrong. If I had the car, Mum wouldn’t have to work so hard, Dad wouldn’t be mad all the time and they’d stop fighting... rather daft, yeah? But I was a kid. It seemed simple then...” His voice drifted off.

“What happened, Ray?” Bodie’s voice was gentle.

Ray took a deep breath, steeling himself. 

“Christmas morning, I woke before everyone else. We didn’t have a tree, but Mum had cut a big tree silhouette out of paper and taped it to the wall. We’d spent one whole afternoon colouring ornaments on it. It had seemed like the most wonderful tree in the world.” He coughed, trying to clear the emotion from his throat. “Christmas morning... well Father Christmas had come, hadn’t he? Sitting on the floor, with a big paper ribbon on the bonnet was that red car. I was so.... I called for Mum and Dad to come see. The look on my Mum’s face, Bodie, she was happier than I was. But me Dad... he wasn’t. He took the car away from me and shoved it at her. He was shouting horrible things; asking her where the car had come from, where she got the money to pay for it, why she had wasted the money on me... I tried to push him away from her. He was so angry. He swung the car around, to push me away and caught me across the face. Mum moved to protect me and he hit her... hit her hard and she fell ...and her head hit the corner of the table ...and she didn’t move...”  
He looked up at Bodie, his eyes dry but miserable, “She died two days later in hospital... she never woke up.”

Bodie covered the cold, clenched fists with his own. 

Ray nodded, not looking up. He spoke to the entwined hands still resting on the table. “If only I hadn’t made such a big deal about that bloody car...”

“Oh no, sunshine,” Bodie let go of Ray’s hands and grasped Ray’s chin. He tipped Ray’s face up until their eyes met. “You think it’s your fault that your mum died, don’t you. Been torturing yourself for years over it, yeah? No wonder you try to ignore Christmas. It’s time to let it go, Ray. Wasn’t your fault. It’s time to forgive and forget.”

“What are you on about, Bodie? Forgive who? I...”

“But that’s not all of it, is it? You blame your mum too?”

“She left me, Bodie,” Ray’s voice was barely a whisper, “She saw it too...”

Bodie was puzzled. “Saw what?”

“I don’t know, do I?” A shout, and then the anger drained away. Ray shrugged. “Whatever it is that makes people leave, that keeps people from loving me... She saw it...she was the first and she left... left me with him...

Bodie shook his head in exasperation. “Blame yourself for everything, you do. Forgive yourself, Ray. You were seven... and your mum... she loved you, sunshine. She wouldn’t have worked so hard to make you happy if she didn’t... the paper tree, the car... that’s love in my book. She didn’t mean to leave you.”

Ray looked away, eyes unnaturally bright.

“And what’s all this about nobody loving you... although I’ll admit you can seem pretty unlovable at times!” Bodie punched Ray lightly in the shoulder. Doyle scowled at him.

“But... you’ll always have me, Ray.”

Ray finally met his eyes and read the truth there. 

Bodie glanced around the pub. No one was paying them any attention and the need radiating from the man beside him overrode his better sense. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Ray’s forehead. “Let’s get you home.”

#

Bodie pulled up in front of Ray’s flat. He was hoping for an invite, but knew his partner needed some time alone.

“Here you go, mate. All safe and sound. Take a few paracetamol tablets and get yourself to bed. Think about what I said.”

There was no movement from the passenger seat. Bodie turned and took in Ray’s still figure, head bowed, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“What’s all this, then?” Bodie asked softly. “Ray?”

Cheerless eyes raised. Bodie could see a question in them and then saw it quickly disappear. Ray straightened himself up and reached for the door.

“G’night, Bodie, Happy Christmas.” He stepped out of the Capri.

“And to you, sunshine. See you on Boxing Day. Pick you up?”

Ray nodded and closed the car door. Bodie watched as Ray made his way slowly up the steps and into his flat.

#

Entering his home, Ray felt the loneliness that had been haunting him for weeks finally and firmly enfold him. A hot shower and a double scotch didn’t help. He had made a fool of himself, and to make it worse he’d almost asked Bodie to spend the holiday with him. He had told Bodie that he was spending Christmas with family in Derby. But now Bodie knew there was no family. There hadn’t been since he was seven. That sodding red car in Harrods had brought it all back and made it all real again, unearthed all the ghosts.

He took his drink to the window and peered out. It had started to snow, just like that night... No, he wasn’t going to wallow in those memories. Bodie was right. He had done enough of that. He felt restless; he needed to move. He found his trainers and headed out for a run.

The streets were quiet. The snowfall muffled all sound with a heavy, soft blanket of white. It was piling up quickly, the large wet flakes sticking to everything they came in contact with, hiding the world around him under its cover. He kept up a brisk pace, lengthening his stride. The stitch in his side and his laboured breathing kept thoughts at bay. He believed it best to leave his thoughts buried in the past, like the streets under the snow; but he couldn’t shut them out. As he ran past the silent houses he could see windows decorated with fairy lights, tinsel and colourful ornaments dressing holiday trees, all waiting for morning and the festivities that would bring them to life. He’d had that once.  
The bruises and aching muscles that were souvenirs from this latest op finally caught up with him. He stopped and leaned over, hands on his knees to catch his breath. The snow was a couple of inches deep now and it continued to fall at a quick rate. He stood up and tipped his head back, letting the snow melt on his face, the wetness mingling with and hiding the tears that had escaped his control. Anger rose. Why was he crying... after all this time? He hadn’t cried then. Did a naive seven year old have more control of himself than a cynical thirty-two year old CI5 agent? “Bloody hell!” he spat out. He’d been lost since that display in Harrods... why had he let it get to him?

Christmas had never been more than just another day to him since that last one in Derby. No, that wasn’t totally true. Christmas was a day to be avoided. He always volunteered to work, earning a bit of good will from his co-workers at the Met. It wasn’t so bad if he could stay busy, be distracted.

But that wasn’t to be this year. First, because of their handling of the IRA attack, Cowley had _rewarded_ them with two days leave. Then there was bloody Bodie. Somehow the prat had become a friend... no, more than that. It had been a very long time since Ray had a real mate. He wondered if sharing the holiday with Bodie would help chase away the ghosts of Christmas-past and the black mood they always brought along with them. 

And what was that all about with Bodie? Bodie had kissed him. Bodie didn’t kiss even his birds in public. He could feel his face redden as he remembered that kiss, just a light brushing of Bodies lips, but it had felt right... warm, and something inside him had shifted in a not uncomfortable way. He knew Bodie considered himself a bisexual; hell, they both were. They flirted and teased each other all the time, but neither had taken it further. They were afraid for their partnership. Maybe he was fooling himself, reading too much into it, but the kiss hadn’t felt like pity.

He wished now that he had invited Bodie to share Christmas dinner. But he’d remembered the berk going on and on about Lily and a cottage somewhere up north and he’d swallowed the invitation, surprised by the hurt he felt at doing so. But Bodie had seen; Bodie knew he’d wanted something and was afraid to voice it. Bodie always knew; they read each other that well. And they respected the barriers each had built around their most vulnerable parts. He wished now that Bodie had pushed a little harder at the walls. Maybe it was time to bury the old Christmas memories and make some new ones. He’d ring Bodie in the morning and if Bodie hadn’t made plans with Lily he’d invite him on for a meal. 

He stated back towards home. Surprised, he saw Bodie sitting in the dark on the steps in front of his building. He stood as Ray approached. 

“What are you doin’ here? What about the fabulous Lily?” He tried to sound put out, but he wasn’t very good at hiding from Bodie.

Bodie laughed and shook his head. “Always the same, you ratty bastard! I brought you a pressie.” He turned serious. “I bought it when we first started the op, it may not be appropriate now.” He handed Ray a box wrapped in shiny gold paper. 

Ray looked at him, puzzled.

“Go on, open it.”

Ray slowly removed the paper and opened the box. Nestled in tissue paper was a small glass ornament, a little red car.

Bodie watched in horror as Ray’s eyes filled. “I’m sorry, mate, I didn’t...”

Testing the new boundaries, Ray reached up and hooked an arm around the back of Bodie’s neck. He pulled Bodie’s head down until their lips met. He kissed him deeply. “It’s perfect, Bodie. It’s just what I need. I can let go of the old one now, I’ve got a better one right here.” He poked Bodie in the chest and started to laugh. “It’s a beautiful night, mate. Walk with me?” 

#

He watched the falling snow glisten in the street lamps as they walked under them. The snow was having the same effect on his thoughts as it had on the street, burying all the darkness under a mantle of white, offering up an opportunity for a clean start. His mood lightened as they kicked through the gentle snow drifts forming in their path. He felt happy, laughing to himself as he shook the flakes caught in his hair free, creating a small blizzard around his head, catching Bodie in the fallout. Bodie laughed with him, and he felt the last of the doubt and fear in his chest finally thaw. His bleak mood scattered with the snow swirling around them and he walked past it, leaving it behind. He could do this. It _was_ just another day, wasn’t it? The past was just that and it wasn’t going to hold him prisoner any longer. He nudged Bodie with his elbow and started to jog, revelling in the falling snow, soft under their feet and filling the air around them with all the wonder and promise the season held.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "Discovered In a Christmas Tree" at Discovered in a Live Journal's 2011 challenge  
> Prompt: red toy car


End file.
